CHAPTER ONE - MIRACLES
You probably wonder why I`m telling you this story. Well I`m doing it because you don`t know what real love is till you`ve heard this story – my story. And all you people need to know what true love really is! Without love we are nothing.
My life? It isn't easy to explain. I was born somewhere in the United States around 1905. I won`t mention the name of the town I was born in, just because it isn`t very important for the story.
On the outside I look like a common woman, with common thoughts, and if you don`t know me, it probably looks like I`ve led a common life. There are no monuments dedicated to me, and my name will soon be forgotten. But the one thing that makes my life, my story, so special is that I`ve loved another with all my heart! Despite what people said, I still loved her with my heart and soul, and to me this has always been enough to never give her up!
The romantics out there would call this a love story: the cynics would call it a tragedy. In my mind it's a little bit of both, and no matter how you choose to view it in the end, it does not change the fact that it involves a great deal of my life. I have no complaints about the path I've chosen to follow and the places it has taken me—the path has always been the right one. I wouldn't have had it any other way.
Time, unfortunately doesn't make it easy to stay on course. The path is straight as ever and should be easy to follow, and it was until a couple of years ago. Until then all the bad stuff have been easy to ignore, but it's impossible now. I`m sick. I`m old and I`m sick, and my days are spent like an old party balloon: lifeless, spongy and growing softer every day.
As I looked down at my watch I realized it was time to go. I bent down to pick up the notebook that had fallen down on the floor by accident, and walked to the door. The hallway was completely empty, not that I cared. The fewer people that saw me, the fewer questions I would get.
As I came closer to my destination I heard the muffled sounds of crying, and I knew right away who was making them. A nurse came out of the room and smiled a tired smile. I gave her a smile in return as I passed her. "There she goes again." I heard the nurse say to herself. "I hope it turns out well."
A minute later I reached my final destination: room 1001. The door had been opened for me, as it usually was. There were two nurses in the room, and as I entered they said a quick "Good morning".
After the nurses had gone out, I sat down in the chair next to a tall, slim Latina. She just looked down at her hands like she hadn`t noticed my present, but I knew she had. She had her clothes on; the morning routine always upset her, and today was no exception
I sat for just a second and stared at her, but she still didn`t return my look. I understood why. She didn`t know who I was. I was a stranger to her. I was ready. I put on my glasses and opened the notebook I had read so many times before.
There was always a moment right before I began to read the story when my mind churned, and I wondered: "will it happen today?" I never knew beforehand, and deep down it actually didn`t matter. The possibility of maybe getting it all back for maybe just a few minutes was enough to keep me going. And though you may call me a dreamer or a fool for thinking like this, I believe that anything is possible.
I realized many years ago that the odds and the science were against me. But science is not always the answer. Questions of science does not speak as loud as my heart, and if there was one thing I`ve learned in my life time it was that miracles truly do exist! So I`m always going to keep trying until the day I die. So I did like I did every day, I began to read the notebook aloud, so that she can hear it, in the hope that the miracle that has come to dominate my life will once again show up.
And maybe, just maybe, it will.
